


afterlife

by murdermewithbooks



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Afterlife, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Naked Cuddling, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:54:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25863943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/murdermewithbooks/pseuds/murdermewithbooks
Summary: …where do you think our souls end up after we die?” you rest your chin on his bare chest, though his features remain hidden under the veil of darkness that envelopes the two of you.He takes a deep breath and slowly releases it on a sigh, the upwards motion lifting you as well. “I don’t know, cyare. Maybe nothing, maybe we just…fade away into a state of emptiness,” he admits quietly....you imagine a deep crease forming between what you imagine are dark, pensive eyes as he falls silent.
Relationships: Din Djarin x reader, Din Djarin/Reader, Din Djarin/You, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV) & Reader, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Reader, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/You
Comments: 4
Kudos: 77





	afterlife

**Author's Note:**

> some soft Din with a convo about where we go when we die, inspired by the song Afterlife by Nothing But Thieves

“What do you think happens to us when we die?” you whisper into the dark, your voice quiet and uncertain. **  
**

His thumb rubs soothing circles on your hip as he takes a moment to gather his thoughts before saying, “Your heart stops beating and blood stops circulating through the body while your organs shut d–ow!” You pinch his side and he instinctively tightens his arm around your waist as he chuckles, the sound reverberating through your rib cage.

“I know what _happens_ , smartass. I mean after…where do you think _our souls_ end up after we die?” you rest your chin on his bare chest, though his features remain hidden under the veil of darkness that envelopes the two of you. 

He takes a deep breath and slowly releases it on a sigh, the upwards motion lifting you as well. “I don’t know, _cyare_. Maybe nothing, maybe we just…fade away into a state of emptiness,” he admits quietly, his words giving way to some deeper belief the two of you have never discussed before. And though you’ve never seen his face either, you imagine a deep crease forming between what you imagine are dark, pensive eyes as he falls silent.

“I like to think of it–whatever _it_ is–as more of a…a feeling, rather than a place,” you muse, your fingers mindlessly dancing along his bicep. He shifts beneath you, gently running his calloused fingers down your cheek until they reach your jaw and lift your chin. “‘A feeling’?” he questions, his lips grazing yours.

“Y-yeah,” your train of thought nearly derails when he starts making a trail of soft kisses along your jaw, then down your neck and shoulder. He hums softly against your skin, urging you to continue. “I think it’s like feeling every emotion at once, but having no pain…no more suffering in any sense of the word,” a sound of approval resonates at the back of his throat as his other hand slowly makes its way down your spine, one vertebra at a time.

“It’s the feeling of being known and unknown all at the same t-time,” he drags his teeth along your throat, then licks the area with one deliberate stroke of his tongue. And as much as you want to just shut up and lose yourself in his body like you’ve done so many times before, something forces you to keep talking, to make him understand your own belief.

“But I think mostly it’s the feeling of relief – of knowing what it’s like to be completely–” your breaths come out labored and desperate when his hand moves beneath the thin sheet that’s draped over your naked waist. But before he reaches any further, you breathe against his lips, “–free.”

His hand suddenly stills where it rests low on your hip while his other hand comes up to cradle your neck, his thumb stroking your skin as he echoes your last word, “Free.” Trailing your thumb along his bottom lip, you nod before realizing he probably can’t see your gesture in the darkness. 

“Yes,” you swallow hard, dropping your hand to the base of his throat, his pulse bounding at your fingertips. The silence between you grows with every passing second, the only sound being the subtle hum of the ship’s ventilation system. You worry for a moment that you’ve said something wrong when he offers no response. But his lips pressing softly against yours calms your thoughts and you’re able to relax in his arms once more. 

Some time later, you start to drift off to the rhythm of his steady breathing, his hand stroking its way up your spine. You’re somewhere between sleep and consciousness when you hear him whisper, “I must be dead then, because I only ever feel free when I’m with you.”

Before you can respond, exhaustion pulls you under. And the last thing you remember is the feeling of warm lips on the crown of your head and a set of strong arms holding you close.


End file.
